


skype sex.

by orphan_account



Series: 30 day OTP NSFW [7]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Bottom John Lennon, M/M, Modern AU, Skype Sex, Top Paul McCartney
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:00:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21751135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: day 8. john skypes paul in the middle of the night.
Relationships: John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Series: 30 day OTP NSFW [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1546486
Comments: 3
Kudos: 49





	skype sex.

**Author's Note:**

> i seriously never thought i was capable of doing a modern AU of the beatles. just like how i do not think i’m capable of making an american AU even though i am american?? idk?? enjoy, though! there may be some errors here or there.

Paul’s eyes batted open, inhaling a irritated breath at the annoying Skype ringtone shrilling his eardrums. Groggily, he stood up and swiped his tongue along his dry lips as he stretched out a bit. One hand began to scratch at the messy, slight curls of his hair as his other opened up his computer to reveal a picture of his boyfriend. What was John doing calling him in the middle of the night?

Immediate concern swooned over Paul’s tiredness, and he clicked the green answer button. As the call connected, Paul rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat criss crossed in the thick bed sheets that were draped around his body.

John appeared on the screen, face flushed and thin lips red from his obvious gnawing on it. Paul cranked his head to the side as he innocently watched his boyfriend, unmistakably embarked on a journey of immense pleasure. After hearing a moan coming out loud from the screen, Paul shrieked and immediately slammed his computer screen closed.

His eyes were blown wide, and a crimson blush spread across his baby cheeks. Paul then pulled away, lifting his computer screen up slowly and almost shyly as John’s echoed, breathy laugh flowed through the computer screen.

“John? What are you doing?” Paul asked, watching as John carefully positioned his phone against something. John chuckled, sitting back down on the couch that was in the background with his erection bopping up and down freely in sync with his movements. “Do you know how late it is? Especially wanking off at this hour?”

“I couldn’t get you off my mind.” John simply yet breathlessly replied, working his closed fist up and down his cock. The sight conveyed any preventative thought in Paul’s mind about this late night phone call, and transitioned into a feeling of arousal.

Paul wouldn’t give in that quick though.

“Oh really? At three-thirty in the morning?” Paul queried, a eyebrow arching as he snuggled up closer into the thick sheets that embraced his snug frame. “Are you that desperate?”

“Devil’s hour Macca, you know the deal. Now shut up, be a doll, and show a little bit more of that milky skin for me. Will you?” 

Paul shuddered, but he of course, disobeyed. Slowly, he removed the covers from his body and just sat there with his button up, silk pajama shirt. Along with his pajama pants as well. John sat on the couch, cock seemingly going flaccid at the lack of nude coming from the other side of the screen. Paul began to smirk as John, second by second, became much more frustrated with him. 

“Now Johnny, you woke me up out of the most beautiful sleep I’ve had in awhile. Expecting me to do as you say without any challenges? Pardon me, but I figure that we’re both too tired for any of this..so instead.” Paul lowered his voice, and snaked a hand to his brightness, turning it up all the way which slightly gave his eyes a sore but he ignored it.

The flaming view of John Lennon’s curious, flushed and vulnerable expression was enough for Paul.

“So instead.” The younger continued, sitting back and reaching up to slowly unbutton his pajama shirt just because he felt his body temperature rise. “Why don’t I just talk to you?”

“Come off it Paul.” John impatiently spat, releasing his cock from his grasp.

“Ah. Put your hand back on it.”

John paused from reaching forward onto his phone to hang up, and relaxed his sexually frustrated scowl. “Back on what?” John innocently asked, the oblivious sound of his voice made Paul only more hot.

“Your cock. Grab it. Don’t stroke it either, just hold it.” Paul precisely ordered, relishing in his random control over things. He loved control. Craved it.

John blinked a few times, not coming to terms with whatever the younger man had in store. Nonetheless, he wrapped his trembling hand around his cock and exhaled in internal annoyance. “Now that’s a good bitch.” Paul had then spoke, the degrading name sending all types of shivers down John’s spine.

Paul hadn’t known where that came from. It just fell through his lips, and usually he wasn’t keen on degrading his lovers. Paul shrugged the thought off, finding himself at a point of no return.

“Now, stroke it. Slowly. Twist your hand around it,” Paul watched as John did what he said, licking his lips and slipping his own hand under his pajama pants. He angled the computer so that John couldn’t quite see what Paul was doing, but John wouldn’t be able to exactly look anyways. “Yes baby, now that’s right. You dirty fucking slut.”

John’s cock hardened again, his chest heaving just a bit at the way Paul’s words wrapped around his head. How stunningly sultry, husky with sheer tiredness which made the hoarseness many times better, including how usually soft his voice was and how it literally dripped with anything but innocence was _astonishing_ to John. Eventually he concluded that Paul’s voice was literally capable of anything. No, _Paul_ was capable of anything.

“Run one hand up your chest, massage your right nipple. You may now speed up your stroking. Look at you Johnny, just look at you. Looking so dirty, so much like a whore, so beautiful.”

“Paul,” John’s breath hitched, and his cock began to throb. “Please talk to me more.”

“Tough, intimidating John Lennon. Begging for me like the sweet, cum dumpster he is. A sweet little cunt aren’t you?” Paul smiled at the way John’s hips bucked, and breathy gasp escaped his lips. “Just for me. Nobody else’s. That’s right Lennon, you’re my bitch. _My bitch_ and no one else’s. _Say it._ ”

“S-Say what?”

“That you’re my bitch.”

John’s breathing began to become more laboured, and as seconds passed by his muscles began to constrict spontaneously. Waves of pleasure washing over him, drowning out all of the intense run-ins he’d been through over the day. “Oh- oh Paul-”

How John was unfolding, and the way Paul was fondling himself sent him to the edge. All he needed was to hear John admit it, and he’d be done for. “Say it John or I’ll hang up right now.”

“ _Please_ -” John hadn’t thought for a second that he’d admit to being someone’s bitch. Not at all in his lifetime. Then here he is, stammering over his words and stuttering as Paul seemed to have gotten more quiet.

“I want to cum-”

Paul growled, and immediately looked directly at John. “You’re not allowed to cum until you say it.” 

John was so _close._ “Paul-”

Paul moaned lowly, “Say it Lennon.”

“I’m- I’m your bitch.” John had finally gasped out, feeling himself release all over his first and lower abdomen. Three waves of pleasure drenching his surroundings, and causing his moans to rise up to the ceilings of his home.

With that, Paul was spent as well, milking himself and gnawing on his other hand to keep himself from moaning aloud.

After a few more minutes, which had involved both men recovering. John coughed, “Thanks for that Paul. I- I um..”

“I won’t tell anyone that I made you my bitch.” Paul said, somehow reading John’s mind and feeding into how insecure John had sounded about now. “It was satisfying to hear you say that by the way.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Paul yawned tiredly, “About time I see the real you John. All vulnerable, fragile, and my God so _beautiful_.”

John was blushing. Hard. “Shut the fuck up. You say that now, when this afternoon I’ll be fucking your brains out against the wall.”

Paul was suddenly awake again, his spent cock becoming enlightened once again with interest. “Oh do go on.”

“I’ll have you crying Macca. All day. You’ll be _my_ bitch. I’ll bend you in ways you’ve never thought would be possible.”

Shoving his hand back in his pajama pants, Paul was working his hand up and down his cock. “Tell me more Johnny.”

•••


End file.
